Novel Full Chapter 761: Only Here For Vengeance
Chapter 761: 761: Only Here For Vengeance
A sprawling metropolis of steel and sorcery stretched to the horizon. It was larger than a decade ago, but also far more chaotic. The obsidian obelisks once ringed around the mountains were gone, replaced by tiered black spires, each exuding a pressure so holy it made the knees want to bend.
Every tower had its own foreign style, like grafts from other worlds. Orson could feel different divine rules bleeding from each one.
He looked toward the distance, toward the place people like him once called home. The Chaos Hall was gone. The old city lord’s manor had been leveled and turned into the city’s filthiest slum. Gaunt shapes drifted through its alleys like hungry ghosts.
He had thought that upon becoming something that battled gods, his heart would be steady as iron. Yet as he took in this view, anger tangled with helplessness across his face.
The walls were taller now, stained with the memory of an old siege. That color wasn’t paint. It was Godslayer blood poured into stone. Skulls glazed white as jade were set into the gate like inlays, shining like jewels to the unwary eye.
Some City of the Gods.
Some Pantheon Sanctum.
A heavy thud.
“I… I failed our brothers and sisters. I deserve to die.”
Bradley dropped to one knee, eyes bloodshot. Everyone knew that once upon a time, Forever City’s Lord Orgod liked to hang enemy heads from his gates to scare off his foes.
The gods had copied the practice with zeal.
They had embedded Earth’s fiercest resistors, its strongest adventurers, into the very walls. A message to the dead: your souls will never know peace.
Half the Steel Legion was buried here, including Divine Slash, who used to tail Bradley like a shadow. How could he not be ashamed? How could he not be furious?
Those who inherited Bradley’s will knew there were gods stationed in Forever City, that death here would be final. And they still followed him into battle, holding the line for a duel against a god.
The gods had been cunning. The legion bled itself dry, only for Bradley to be taken alive and tortured. If not for the Titans of the Endless Rift and a Miraya Soul Transfer Stone that ferried him through the abyss of the titan world, he wouldn’t be here at all. He came out with two titan passives, Severed Limbs Reborn and Rapid Regeneration. Helpful, but nowhere near “immortal” before a divine domain.
The gods kept him alive for a reason. They wanted to remake Godslayer’s strongest warrior into a weapon of their own. And they wanted Earth to live in fear.
“There are a lot of them.”
A woman in a gray cloak walked out from the wreckage.
“You… another bearer of Divinity.”
Bradley snapped upright, veins standing out on his arms as he slid in front of Orson with blade drawn. Rage and dread swirled in his eyes.
“A friend,” Orson said, tapping his shoulder.
“By seniority, we should be calling her ancestor.”
“Ah. That’s… fine then.”
Bradley eased off, though his expression stayed awkward. With the way Orson fought now, even he and Velorith together would be hard-pressed to protect him from anything.
Bellara’s brows dipped. “You brought mortals here. Why?”
Her gaze paused on Bradley, and she nodded once. “This one’s not bad. Still a little green.”
“President, Weapon Goddess, your social circle is… broad,” SirLagsALot muttered.
Bradley felt like he’d walked into a period drama. “Hell, she really talks like an ancient.”
“Uh… filial piety and all that. Three bows for the elder.”
He bent forward. A blade phantom materialized and pressed against his forehead as he dipped.
“Shut that mouth and I might make you stronger,” Bellara said coolly.
“For real?”
Bradley brightened, grinning as he stuck out both hands like a street thug begging for loot.
“He’s your friend?” Bellara asked Orson, face darkening at the boy’s shamelessness.
“My brother,” Orson said plainly.
“Birds of a feather.”
Bellara snorted. A sleeve flicked. A ribbon of teal light slipped into Bradley’s inventory.
She had reached Earth before Orson and already mapped the Sanctum’s roots. With a tilt of her chin, she led them to enter the city quietly.
“What’d you get?” Orson asked, curious.
When the dragon patriarch smuggled Bellara to Sunforge and sealed the world, he’d handed her half a world’s worth of top-tier loot. In other words, half of an Infinite Dimensions endgame sat in her vaults.
Bradley pinched the little mote of teal and went speechless, eyes damp. He pushed the pane to the party.
\[Time Crystal Orb]
Quality: God-Remnant Relic
Effect: Captures an enemy’s actions from the last 1 to 10 seconds and forces them to repeat that sequence of moves or spells. Cooldown 30 seconds.
“Opener is a God-Remnant? That’s outrageous.”
Even Orson felt a spike of envy. Bellara had told him: God-Remnant Relics were leftovers of true gods, an echelon above ancient divine items. Some gods liked to roam, harvesting rule shards from dead divinities and forging them into relics. Even in a mortal’s hand, they could snag a god.
“Orson, if she’s an ancestor of my US line, I could… join her school, right?” Bradley’s eyes gleamed.
Orson nodded without hesitation. “If you get the chance, grab that thigh and don’t let go. Sell your charm. Streak through a courtyard. Whatever it takes.”
“What good is this thing, though? Make the enemy hit me a second time?” SirLagsALot wondered.
“You don’t get it,” Bradley said, slinging an arm around him with a wicked cackle. “My pseudo-domain Future Edge lets me predict enemy move lists.”
SirLagsALot’s frown melted. He’d watched more battles than any human alive. The light went on. “So under your domain, you pop the orb and force them to ’replay’ an attack string they haven’t staged yet.”
“Bingo. Next time I see that butchery god, I’ll beat him till his own mother can’t recognize him,” Bradley growled.
“Those black towers are shrines for twenty-seven gods,” Bellara said, pointing to the ridge. “Soul conduits. They transmit a god’s consciousness from another world into a living vessel here, a walking proxy.”
“So yeah. A lot of people,” Orson said.
Bellara glanced at the city so close she could taste it and sighed. “You’re certain you want open war? No other play?”
“They want to unify these worlds, not exterminate them,” she went on. “And they don’t mind new gods appearing. They’d welcome a peer into the Pantheon Sanctum.”
Orson shifted into the old Empire Mage with a flicker of Phantomcraft. He smiled, humorless. “Is the Blade Empress suggesting they’re merciful?”
“You’re twisting my words. Think whatever you want.” Bellara shook her head. She couldn’t read him anymore.
Orson’s face went dark as a storm. “They don’t want to wipe everything out,” he said, voice like ice. “Very unfortunate. I do.”